Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 79

I had it under control. I was keeping it together, I was just fine. But that- that was too much.

Tyler pushed me gently onto my bed, where I drew my feet into myself, sobbing quietly, and he closed the door. He took my shoes off of my feet and then took off his own. He lay next to me and watched my face as I cried, wiping tears from my cheeks. The slow beat of my speakers was still playing, the song Tonight was playing, my iPod had stayed under the artist Lykke Li. I buried my face into Tyler's chest, not thinking about the fact that my tears were staining his shirt, just letting myself think about nothing but the beat of the music and the feel of his hand, pulling through my hair easily.

She was so beautiful. Delicate, fragile, breakable- a side of her I had never seen before, not like this. She was always strong, slightly sarcastic, holding herself with an enviably straight posture and a smile that leans more toward a smirk. Now, though, she was just the girl she hid inside herself, the one that I knew so well despite only having really seen just once, right now. The one I loved.

I don't know how long we lay there, but it must have been long. I fell asleep against his chest and only awoke when I heard voiced in the second floor hallway, my parents getting home from the event they had regretfully had to attend tonight. Tyler should have been sleeping in the guest room, I should have been showered and wearing a thin nightgown, sleeping on top of my covers. But I was in the clothes I had been wearing all day, my face streaked with tearstains. But I had also never been more comfortable. Tyler had been sleeping, too, but he awoke when I shifted slightly. "Sorry," I whispered. He murmured a forgiving and returned to unknotting my hair with his fingertips. I pulled myself higher up, so that my face was only slightly lower than his, my eyes aligned with his jaw. "Thank you," I whispered, and he opened his tired eyes, looking down at me and smiling at me slightly. I smiled back and drew my face up farther, pressing my lips to his.

Her lips were soft, warm, and tasted like cinnamon. I felt my eyes widen and then close, my hands removing themselves from the bottom of her hair and bringing her face closer in to mine, breathing in her perfume and tasting her lips. She was here. She was kissing me. She was mine.

His kiss was strong, gripping, protective. His hands took my face and pulled it closer to his. His lips were soft but rough, he tasted like chocolate chips. I felt his lips lifting as he smiled under my mouth. I was here. He was kissing me. I was his.

© 2010